


nine

by sundowns



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Break Up, it's a happy ending don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 05:49:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sundowns/pseuds/sundowns
Summary: It's Black Day, April 14th, and Oikawa meets his ex in a Korean restaurant.





	nine

**Author's Note:**

> (black day is a celebration observed by single people in south korea by eating _jjajangmyeon_ or black bean noodles.)
> 
> can you believe this was supposed to be published 7 months ago

In one of downtown Sendai’s Korean restaurants, Oikawa has been one of the few customers who regularly craves for its native cuisines. Just a few blocks from his old high school is the locally famous Hyung Won’s, and as a regular, he knows what to get there when he’s at that time of the month.

And by that _time of the month_ , there are instances when it gets a little drama-esque and he immerses himself with a bowl of  _kimchi jjigae_  or a large hot pot of  _budae jjigae_. But no,  _fuck that_ , today is ten times sadder, so he’s getting maybe 10 bowls of  _jjajangmyeon_  because it happens to be April 14th. Nothing special in particular though, just a sort of  _something_  celebrated by solos like him, and he’s pissed how he’s affected by some unofficial holiday not even observed in his own country.

Perhaps being a regular customer in a Korean restaurant has rubbed off on him.

He gives the usual greeting to Hyungwon’s daughter by the counter and takes a table in his usual space. There are barely any customers today, but he gets that. He orders a large bowl of  _jjajangmyeon_ , complete with his usual double serving of  _danmuji_.

“Really?” Jiwon mocks as he eyes him in disbelief. “ _Nii-chan_ , who was that girl you brought the other day then?”

“A groupmate in my History project. Can you please take my order?”

“If you were only dating me, you wouldn’t have to eat  _jjajangmyeon_  today!” she playfully suggests, earning an ugly snort from Oikawa. At this, he feels something burning at the side of his head and sees Akio’s glaring presence by his peripheral vision.

“Well, Ji-chan,” he slurs, elbow propped on his perfectly clean table. He can say Akio does everything spotlessly but somehow sucks in tending  _other_  matters. “ _you_  wouldn’t if only you had started dating Ak—fuck-”

“Sorry,” Akio mumbles, not sounding like it, and Oikawa rubs at the sore spot while he eyes a fallen box of tissues on the floor.

“To-go?” Jiwon ignores them as she scribbles on her notepad.

“Dine-in.”

“Alright. One  _jjajangmyeon_ , large bowl, dine-in, coming right up!” 

 

 

Maybe it really has been long or he really did starve himself today, because he’s wolfing his meal down without doubts and making the chef smile with audible slurps. The perks of being a regular at Hyung Won’s are the larger servings, its favoritism towards the favorites and sometimes, free drinks. Oikawa always likes to leave the last one for later. A cooler  _soju_  towards the end of a good meal is always much preferable.

Sometimes, Oikawa politely declines a free drink, because a bottle of _soju_ ’s alcohol content is one thing he can’t properly digest and he’d rather walk home straight and safe.

Tonight, he considers service water.

“Still a messy eater, I see.”

The last bit of noodle slides off his mouth as he jumps off his seat, practically knocked out of his engaging, solitary feast. The voice is definitely familiar, something he’s always heard in his mind when he drifts off his own consciousness. When he sees the perpetrator, he’s immediately put to a panicked dilemma—he wants to hide under the table,  _fight and flight_ , prays for the ground to swallow him whole, and is about to run all at once. He’s been expecting for this day, but not  _today_ , because he’s obviously a mess and kind of sad and extremely grumpy ever since his broken toilet bidet shit on him this morning.

He knows they’re going to meet eventually, _of course he does and he’s been diligently preparing for it_ , and as it happens at this moment, it is without forewarning— repetitive verbal practices and all kinds of script rehearsals fly out from his head as if they were just blown away by the wind.

It’s Iwaizumi, a.k.a his ex-boyfriend he can’t forget, and Oikawa hasn’t seen him in more than half a year.

Or maybe he did at times, because even if Oikawa purposely moved westward from his hometown, they still both live in Miyagi and he is bound to meet him somewhere. The thing is, before Iwaizumi could ever find him anywhere around, Oikawa always fled first.

No proper greetings, no asking of “When was the last time we saw each other?” “On my birthday when you ambushed my dorm and traumatized my half-naked roommate,” he answers in his head.

He looks at Iwaizumi’s tray. A large bowl of  _jjajangmyeon_  like his.  _Probably still single_ , his mind casually supports. He tries to shut his head up.

“Ah.”

“Did you go home for the weekend?” Automatically, Iwaizumi sits on his table like it’s normal, because it has always been normal. It  _should_ be normal. They always share tables—no matter the small fights, silent times, and eventual breakups. Oikawa wants to die but not really because he’s also been dying to see him. “Didn’t see you around the neighborhood.”

“No,” he swallows and dabs a wad of tissue around his mouth. “Don’t tell mom. I just came out to eat.”

“Good.” Iwaizumi nods and peeps at Oikawa’s already empty dish. “Hungry?”

He rolls his eyes to make it natural.  _Always make things natural around him._   _Always._

“Always,” he mutters, one out of his subconscious, and praises himself for it makes sense. Iwaizumi chuckles at this. “Was Iwa-chan craving for  _jjajangmyeon_ , as well?”

 _As well. Wow._ Oikawa cringes. Too formal.

Iwaizumi pauses to look at him—Oikawa waits and he hopes he doesn’t look too eager like a puppy—and then drifts his gaze back to mixing his sauce and noodles. He’s barely heard when he mumbles a “sure.”

But the thing is Iwaizumi is not inclined to  _jjajangmyeon_. At all. He always rather preferred anything but  _jjajangmyeon_.

Oikawa wants to scream because really, he is confused and barely has anything to say.

“How are you doing?” Iwaizumi saves that for him.

“Oh, good, I guess,” he responds, a little robotic, but he’s ogling at him like crazy like he was not used to seeing his face for maybe at least, five days a week.

Iwaizumi raises his eyebrow. “You guess?”

“Oh, I feel really good.”

“ _Tch_.” He shakes his head but there’s a tiny smile playing along his mouth. It sends those  _things_  flying around Oikawa’s stomach and he curses his urge to slam his abdomen against the table. “No drinks?  _Soju_?”

“I’m a lightweight.”

“I know.”

 _Then why did you ask?_  Oikawa taunts in his head and keeps a goaded sigh to himself. He knows he is messing with him but what irks him more is that this half-assed conversation excites him to death.

“So, you’ve decided to like  _jjajangmyeon_  now,” he remarks when he observes Iwaizumi promptly take one-third of his portion.

“I’ve been preparing for this day,” he says after chewing a mouthful.

“For what?”

“Black Day.”

Oikawa lets out a large snort. “Stop trying to be funny.”

“I’m not being funny, you know,” Iwaizumi says a matter-of-factly. “You laugh at everything I say.”

Oikawa clicks his tongue. “It’s addictive. I used to hate it back then, too. The more you eat, the more you’re curious and before you know it, you’re already looking for it.”

Iwaizumi smirks at Oikawa’s say, seeming to agree. “Thing is, I still dislike  _danmuji_.”

“Oh, can I have it?”

“’Course.”

Maybe it’s forcing a new trend—denying the awkward atmosphere by picking at an ex’s leftover food with faux interest. Akio almost goes to their table to collect the soiled dishes but he sends him a subtle shake of the head.

What rankles him is Iwaizumi seems to be comfortable when Oikawa is panicking himself. He’s too hesitant to even open his mouth, scared that he’ll blurt out something uncalled for—like he still misses him even after their separation or that every once a week, he still listens to the Christmas mixtape he got from him way back in high school.

 _“It's fucking August.”_ Oikawa revisits a laughable memory, one where Matsukawa raided his dorm uninvited in the middle of a full-volume  _Mistletoe_ by Justin Bieber in lofi remix.

At this, Oikawa knows he can’t refute the residual feelings, but Iwaizumi seems to be doing well though.

 _Of course he should._  He scolds himself, does a mental eyeroll targeted to no one but himself.

He also thinks about leaving right  _now_  but—

“—kawa? Oikawa.”

He reflexively sits erect. “Hm?”

“I’m getting a second round. You want to?”

And on cue, his stomach complains but he’s thankful than embarrassed. Iwaizumi makes a face.

“Please.”

“Anything else?”

“ _Soju_?”

“You’re a lightweight,” Iwaizumi deadpans.

“I know. And maybe some fried dumplings, too!”

“Do you want the larger one? If it’s alright, we could share and save a little.”

“I don’t mind,” he mumbles, whipping his phone out and going to his Twitter app. From under the table and out of aggravation, he lets his fingers fly over the keyboard.

_jfoidjfoesjfoekojfekfnkd_

 

Then, he presses  _tweet_.

 _How convenient._  Two exes sharing a bowl of  _jjajangmyeon_  on Black Day. Oikawa thinks about telling a friend from the Literature department in contributing some kind of mind-boggling story plot.

 

 

He had went on seven months trying to discard boyfriend-Iwaizumi, or at least those ‘things’ (he refuses to say ‘memories’) that happened all throughout their romantic relationship, out of his waking and non-waking mind. However, it seems that the skies will always have a thing for scheming on him for all he knows. Within the duration of that time, nothing really changed except scarce conversations and gradual heartbreaks. He’s trying not to be bitter about it,  _the skies know he indeed is_ , and even went as far as taking yoga and acupuncture sessions to give himself mind peace. As a result, he once ended up crying in his doctor’s clinic in the middle of having needles stabbed to his face.

“Maybe you should talk it out?”

“I can’t. I don’t want to see his ugly face.”

“Oh, did he dump you?” The doctor asks in pity and shoots another one to his jaw. Oikawa snorts.

“As if.”

 

 

* * *

 

  

Asking Iwaizumi out is never initially the plan. Oikawa just always knows he’s a different kind of special and sort of let that happen. And just like all the other days, it’s ordinary. One day in high school, they’re walking on the way home and Oikawa can’t exactly tell why he’s edgy. He tries anyway.

“Will you go out with me?”

“Hm? Sure.” Iwaizumi shrugs, obviously oblivious to the atmosphere. “Where do you want to go?”

Oikawa shakes his head and almost laughs about an oncoming misery, because  _Iwa-chan is really stupid._ “No, not that. I don’t mean it like that.”

In the stillness, he discreetly observes Iwaizumi’s reaction,  _just discreet_ , because he's also a little afraid. He only gets a flabbergasted response.

“Come again?”

Oikawa looks away, particularly at the nearing corner they're about to round.

“I said go out with me.”

“Where did that come from, Oikawa?”

“You know I love you, right?” he swallows.  _Whatever,_ he forces a mantra.  _Think nonchalance to act nonchalant, even with the pounding of your heart._   _He is bound to know anyway._  “Iwa-chan?”

Now that he fully wills himself to look, he can see Iwaizumi thoroughly flustered. Oikawa can’t blame him and just resorts to taking whatever’s there.

“What the hell?”

“Was that a rejection?” When the shame finally comes over to consume him, he cowers, because for real, the regret is really starting to kick in and seep into his bones.  _Well, that was a good 20 seconds of courage._   He tries not to show it, though; he’s Oikawa, after all—good at fronting and putting up fake exteriors. “Well, if I made you uncomfortable, please pretend I never said anything.”

“No, it’s not that, I just—” Iwaizumi rubs the back of his neck, ears pink at the tips, and Oikawa almost bites his cheek into bleeding. “I’m... stunned. That’s all.”

“So, you’re not dumping me, then?”

Iwaizumi shrugs again, still unable to form a concise response. He doesn’t look uneasy at all and that makes Oikawa uneasy himself. He thinks the spark of hope might make him pass out.

“Then go out with me until graduation!” he blurts out with a quick wave of audacity, passing but effective, and he clutches at his bag strap with a convincing face. “It’s a win-win situation, right?”

Iwaizumi looks at him skeptically, but throughout the partly uncomfortable silence, Oikawa somehow knows Iwaizumi Hajime is never a difficult person to begin with—even with things as trivial as  _this_.

“Yeah.” He nods at Oikawa, casual but sure, and gives off a stance that says  _Why not? No big deal_. Because maybe it really isn’t a big deal. “Yeah, okay.”

 

 

It is a little awkward for Oikawa after that. He’s a breath away to screaming he wants to refute and that all that was just a post-April fool’s joke. It’s already June.

He goes to make his homework and plops himself on his study table by his bedroom window—it’s opposite to Iwaizumi’s, thus their tables are set facing each other. When Oikawa drags the curtains aside, he brings himself to Iwaizumi staring at him from across his room with stunned silence. Usually, it isn’t even a big deal, but he fucking heats up like a kettle and tries with his whole will to dismiss the stiff air.

His phone rings.

He throws Iwaizumi a questioning look and sees him clamping his phone to his ear. Iwaizumi responds with a jut of his head.

“What,” Oikawa deadpans, putting himself on speaker mode.

“ _Will you stop making that face?_ ”

Oikawa makes a face at him. “Making  _what_  face?”

“ _You’re making this awkward for us, you know. Stop acting like that generic, shy high school girl. It doesn’t suit you._ ”

“What do you mean?” He lilts, harrumphing. “I’m not acting like a generic, shy high school girl. Also, don’t generalize growing women!”

“ _Look this way_.”

“No.”

“ _Not even an hour to this ‘thing’_ ,” Iwaizumi emphasizes it with part uncertainty, part confusion, like he’s waving his hands around trying to find the exact term for the  _thing_. _“and you want to fight with me already?_ ”

“ _Relationship_ ,” Oikawa corrects and glares at Iwaizumi through the window and sees the other chuckling. Oikawa softens and chuckles as well and with this, they never break eye-contact. “Iwa-chan, come over.”

“ _Should I bring something?_ ”

Oikawa shakes his head. “Nah. Just you.”

Being eight meters away, it’s a little difficult making out what one is making a face of with an almost blank expression, but there’s something distinct about Iwaizumi’s almost-smile yards across. Oikawa thanks for the distance when blood rises up his face and betrays him.

“ _Yeah_.  _Okay._ ”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Good mood?”

“Hm?”

“What are you smiling about?” Iwaizumi questions, but somehow, instead of mocking, Oikawa notes the subtle  _fondness_  in his voice.

“Just something unimportant,” he responds, thinking it’s far from that, and quickly shoos the itching wistfulness away.  _Nah. Just you_. There it goes again, echoing in his head, reminding but taunting. “Are you gonna eat that  _danmuji_?”

“It’s all yours.” Iwaizumi pushes his share to him. Oikawa notices a blob of sauce on the corner of his mouth and urges not to move an inch.  _Not at all_.  _You're not obliged to move around him nor feel any worry._   _Alright. Don’t even breathe near him!_ “You’re gonna get sick if you eat too much.”

“What’s gonna happen to me?”

He shrugs. “Who knows...” and then he trails off. “Indigestion?”

“Very well, then, indigestion I get.”

“Have you ever been taking care of yourself, Oikawa?”

When he feels something like a twitch in his stomach, Oikawa looks at him briefly, because he sure knows those are goddamn butterflies… or the thunder, or a fluttering breeze.  _However we call it._

Whatever happened, whichever link that was cut off, he knows this side of Iwaizumi will always be the catalyst for a reconnection.

“I’m an athlete, Iwa-chan,” he tells him, just feigning it all a little. Deep inside, he really,  _really_  swears it. “I’m always okay.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Oikawa raids Iwaizumi’s room on a warm Saturday afternoon with a petty excuse of making homework. Other than the stack of papers he brings, he also has a bag full of unhealthy  _conbini_  snacks and five DVDs in hand.

“Okay. I know, I know,” he placates Iwaizumi despite staring at him with a deadpan expression. “We’re going to do homework first, I swear.”

“Get inside.”

“Okay, but  _first_  of the  _firsts_ , I need to show you something.”

Iwaizumi nods. “Alright. Spill. What’s that?”

“ _Rules on Dating Oikawa Tooru_.”

He rolls his eyes heavenward.

“So, do I have to suffer like this until graduation?”

Oikawa opens his mouth to protest, but quickly realizes Iwaizumi has a point and somehow resigns to making an unintentional pout. At this, he only looks away.

“I was kidding,” Iwaizumi snorts and pulls him by the neck for a peck on the forehead. Oikawa wants to punch him and just melt at the same time. “Let’s hear it.”

Iwaizumi situates himself on his study table while Oikawa plops himself on his half-made bed. There on his phone is an ongoing note and he clears his throat to kick it off.

“Okay.  _Rules on Dating Oikawa Tooru_. Remember this, okay?” he throws Iwaizumi a knowing look but the latter just snorts. “Rule number one.  _If you’re being mean to me, buy me milkbread!_ And that is with an intentional exclamation point!”

“Stupid. Is that even new?”

“No, but you sometimes digress and be more mean to me instead.”

“I’m not like your  _fangirls_  who like to waste money on you.”

“ _Ouch_. I thought those things you gave me genuinely came from your heart.”

“Well, money comes from my pocket…”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa mutters in distaste. “your humor really downgraded ever since you gave in listening to Mattsun’s recent knock-knock jokes.”

“So, what? You’re the suckiest among all of us,” Iwaizumi counters, making him gape. He manages to kick Iwaizumi in the leg but he only snickers.

“Which leads us to rule number two.  _You should defend me when Mattsun and Makki team up on me!_ ”

“That’s difficult,” Iwaizumi mumbles as he mulls it over, because they know how it’s always 3 over 1. Oikawa huffs, crossing his arms petulantly.

“I can’t believe you’d betray me like this.”

“You’re fun to tease. That’s why.”

“You guys are always targeting me for entertainment!”

“Alright,  _fine_. I’ll try.” He rolls his eyes. “ _I swear_ ,” he makes a follow-up when Oikawa sends him daggers and tries not to laugh. “Now, what’s rule number 3?”

“Uh, let’s see...  _sleepovers twice a week_?”

“Easy. We do it thrice a week though, what a fake.  _Next_.”

“Just to make it official.” Oikawa rolls on his stomach so he faces him. “Alright, number four…  _On Wednesdays, it’s usually a peak day for confessions. You should escort me all day._ ”

Iwaizumi bursts out laughing. “So, you wanna avoid getting confessed?”

Oikawa nods. “Yeah.”

Iwaizumi sighs, now looking at him with seriousness. “I bet it took them a lot of courage to do all that confessing, Oikawa. That’s pretty rude, you know?”

Oikawa’s mouth twists. “But I have a boyfriend…”

“Yeah, but—” Iwaizumi halts, looking away. “I know we’re dating and stuff but maybe you can at least be, y’know,  _kinder_? You’re good with those…  _flowery_  words anyway.”

Oikawa hums, a sneer in his head.  _Is he really?_  “Yeah, yeah. I get it.”

Iwaizumi chortles, gently poking his forearm with his toe. “Isn’t it the right moment to say  _it’s hard being beautiful, Iwa-chan_?”

“It’s hard being beautiful, Iwa-chan. You can’t relate to me,” he declares, all pompous and lighthearted. Iwaizumi does a poor but funny mimicry and they both laugh at the same time.

“Rule number five.  _Feed me my favorite food when I become sad_.”

“Or rule number one. Okay, then I should make you happy to save myself some cash. That’s no problem,” Iwaizumi shrugs, and Oikawa’s insides almost burst if not for that small knowing grin he’s making.

“That was really smooth, y’know.” Oikawa snickers and then his face brightens up. “But Iwa-chan makes me happy all the time! There’s no lie.”

Iwaizumi only scoffs but there’s something on his face that says satisfaction, and with just this, it makes Oikawa satisfied himself.

“Rule number six,” he continues, briefly rereading the line with a placid expression. “ _If you have any concerns, just anything you want to say, my behavior—stuff like that, the cute dog you pet by the public market, don’t hesitate to tell me._ ”

Iwaizumi stares at him with a straight face before saying, “Well, your attitude is pretty shit. Also, there was a stray cat I found in our backyard that I think was Fuyama-san’s.”

Oikawa clambers on the bed to throw him a pillow. He immediately regrets it when Iwaizumi catches it with fast hands and reaches out to mess his hair.

“I complain about your attitude all the time, don’t worry.” It’s a pretty shit response if Oikawa didn’t know better, but it gives him the reassurance he needs. Iwaizumi leans to sit on the corner of his table. “So, what’s number seven?”

Oikawa crosses his arms petulantly. “ _When I make a joke, laugh._ ”

“You’re just sitting there and it makes wanna laugh to death.”

“Oh,  _I know_. I’m a naturally funny person,” he sarcastically comments and Iwaizumi snorts. Oikawa thinks that maybe he’s not kidding after all and laughs with him. “Rule number eight!  _When someone gives me a love letter. It’s okay to be jealous._ ”

“You’re so full of shit, you know that?”

He giggles. “Don’t worry, though. I won’t look for anyone else! I only have Iwa-chan.”

It’s only meant to be half-sincere, half a playful joke, but one glance at Iwaizumi makes Oikawa a colorful mess. He stands there quite red with a quiet chuckle, a hand rubbing on his forehead while he looks out the window.

Oikawa is glad he is able to deliver the sincerity in some way (although he feels a little embarrassed).

“Number nine,” he clears his throat and then looks back at his phone. “ _No matter what—_ ”

_No matter what…_

 

The pause makes Iwaizumi stare up at him in both question and anticipation.

Oikawa’s heart plummets all too quickly but he’s relieved he’s able to stop at a timely moment, because sometimes, even as someone who’s once top at History class and excellent at memorization, he forgets poignant and dumb things just surface from his brain more often than not.  _Did I write this at midnight?_ He wonders, because late slow nights are always going to be trigger-times for him. Perhaps he should really refrain from sleeping late.

 

  1. _No matter what happens after graduation, promise me we’ll still be the same_.



 

 _What a stupid statement_. Of course they’ll still be the same. He does a quick revision in his head.

Iwaizumi prods him. “No matter what  _what_?”

“ _No matter what, I am still the most unique person you will ever come across on the very face of this planet._ ”

“Wow,” he cringes. “Okay, I get that you’re really full of yourself but that was hella uncalled for.”

“Like I said, it’s okay to be jealous, Iwa-chan!”

“Like hell I am.”

As the thought dawns on him, Oikawa prays for nothing but no awkwardness for the inevitable that is post-graduation day, or that the good things in the length of their dating stage will remain as what he will fondly recall.

Though even as day one passed through the fast rotating of the clock and he’s left lying on his bed wide awake at day two’s 12:01 A.M., he had thoroughly stored every bit he can get, be it the faint smiles or hitching pulses. He sincerely hopes he would have more enough space for even the tiniest details.

“Oikawa.”

“Huh?”

“The list?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Oikawa chuckles, shaking his head out of his stupor. He looks back at his list and upon reading it, he realizes it’s the last one. “Ah this one…” He looks up at Iwaizumi who’s looking at him with patience, and then he smiles. “You should really know this. It’s essential for a worrywart like you.”

Iwaizumi’s forehead automatically creases. “And what’s that?”

“Well.” Oikawa makes a breathy chuckle. “ _You don’t have to worry about me all the time. I’m always okay._ ”

 

 

He doesn’t wait too long for a reaction, because Iwaizumi’s face immediately softens and he takes a step forward—literally and perhaps figuratively.

“How can I not worry about you?” He then grabs Oikawa’s face and squishes his cheeks with both palms. Recently, he has known something about Iwaizumi Hajime and that is his nonstop fixation about his cheeks. Out of the blue and without intuitive forewarning, he leans down to kiss Oikawa. “You trip at everything you pass by.”

 _Cute_ , comes a whisper in his head, just a gentle poke to his ear. Some things are just unfairly fair.

It’s not the first time they’ve kissed, but Oikawa feels like it’s always sweeter every time they do. He grasps Iwaizumi’s waist while he ponders and just laughs at this, because  _really_ , maybe he’s falling for him a little more.

“I love you,” he whispers, a bit hesitant and also a little sure but without expecting anything. He feels a little twist in his left. There’s no verbal counter, but Iwaizumi gives him a kiss sweeter than the last one. It’s not the first time he’s said it also, but Iwaizumi, though not vocally, always makes sure to give his share through his very own ways.

Maybe it’s more than enough. 

 

 

“Can I be sweet with you?” Oikawa says to his phone in soft tones. “Don’t tease me, okay?”

It’s quarter to midnight and he’s lying on his bed with nothing but a quivering heart and the urge to sincerely expel what causes it.

“ _Why do you ask permission?_ ” Iwaizumi responds with grog in his voice. He most likely have woken him up in the middle of a deep sleep.

 _Sorry_ , Oikawa thinks with guilt. “Because I know you’re going to shit on me in the morning, that’s why.”

“ _You’re giving me ideas._ ”

“Iwa-chan…”

“ _I was kidding_.” Iwaizumi chuckles, and it’s such in a warm, sweet way that melts like honey to his ears. “ _Okay, you can be_   _sweet_   _with me. Whatever._ ”

“I’m not in the mood anymore. You always ruin the moment.”

“ _Come on. Nothing can stop you. Even your ugliness can’t too._ ”

“Love you, too,” Oikawa says sardonically, but the sentiment in it is heavily opposite.

There is silence for a moment, and then Oikawa hears shuffling of the bed sheets in the middle of the static.

“ _Come by the window, will you?_ ”

“Why?”

“ _Wanna see you. Hurry._ ”

Exhaustion sits at his limbs, but a few words is all that it takes for him to battle the heaviness of a week’s worth of everything—be it overtime volleyball practice (no Mondays-off this time), school papers, and the oncoming November chill. Oikawa slips his sweatpants on and scrambles off the bed, to his study table where he always meets him yards away, and slides the curtains open.

There, as usual, is Iwaizumi leaning against his window jamb, phone pressed to his ear with a stance of scruffiness, just half asleep but still very willing.

Again, there’s that tic that then blooms into a breed with both ache and delight. Oikawa’s lost count how many times he falls for him deeper and he hates both—how he’s unable to do a follow up and not know how bottomless the ditch he’s plunging into.

“What’s up?”

“ _Nothing, I-_ ” Iwaizumi shrugs. “ _Kinda dreamed about you and then you called and it was a really… uh, cool coincidence?_ ”

“ _Cool coincidence_ ,” Oikawa mocks. Typical of him.  “You’re full of shit. I’ll give you a chance to tell me you miss me!”

“ _Will you be quiet…_ ”

“Really though…” he then resigns to a whisper. “We met 5 hours ago.”

“ _Yeah. Okay. I miss you_ ,” Iwaizumi deadpans and Oikawa can practically see him rolling his eyes. “ _If you’re just going to bother me instead of sleeping like a deadass, then at least tell me why you called._ ”

“I don’t know, I just…” Oikawa trails off, feeling a little lighter and less jittery in his chest. It’s never a maybe to begin with. He knows why he goes to him when there’s  _something_ , because Iwaizumi always has that effect on him in almost all circumstances, and that is to level his inner turmoil.  _Like a slow massage on a hard day._  “Just had the sudden urge to call you for no reason.”

“ _Uneasy?_ ”

“No,” he shakes his head, eyes a little disoriented as he looks over to him with a soft chuckle. The chill of the air makes his eyes sting. “Overwhelmed.”

 _Deep breaths_.  _Drink some water_.  _Have a good night’s sleep_. Iwaizumi doesn’t tell him those, and instead only says what he only needs to hear.

“ _You always tell me how you’re always okay..._ ”

“Mm...”

“ _But I’m still here, you know._ ”

“…oh.” he exhales like the air is knocked out of him. This is exactly one of the things that makes him just a little breathless. “Of course. I mean, what even is the point when you can always discern what level of  _okay_  I am? Iwa-chan, I really love you, you know that, right?”

“ _Go to sleep, idiot._ ”

Oikawa softens. “Thank you.”

“ _Come by breakfast tomorrow,_ ” Iwaizumi adds, and Oikawa hears just a subtle ring to his voice that likens to a sweet good night’s kiss.  _“Get your ass off your phone after I hang up._ ”

And then he really hangs up.

Just a few seconds after is a  _ding_  that comes in a form of a pop-up message. Oikawa figures out there may be no sleep happening here because (or if ever that happens) it’s something that will revolve around his subconscious the duration of his unconsciousness.

 

**From: Iwa-chan**

**[12:03] Strange. Would have wanted to kiss you but it’s too cold to go outside. See you in the morning.**

 

In the midst of the oncoming November chill, Oikawa leaves his window open.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You know, I’ve always wanted to talk to you.”

As they take a leisure walk around an old, fond neighborhood, Iwaizumi kickstarts a conversation, one that’s close to home, and something that implies two people once complete strangers now rekindling a relationship.

“People always want to talk to me, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa brags, but it’s one of his infamous charades,  _as usual_ , because that way, he can hide the raging curiosity inside him.

“Figured out you’re still an asshole until now.”

“Habits die hard!” he exclaims, a lighthearted laugh to boot, but Iwaizumi turns to him with slight abruption. So, with that, he throws a follow-up. “About what though?"

“Just…” Oikawa observes Iwaizumi’s face briefly scrunch. “… _things_.”

He snorts. “You and your  _things_.”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi ultimately gives up with a sigh and corrects himself, “ _Relationship_.”

This makes Oikawa  _mentally_  wince. He just hopes the mental wince he makes doesn’t physically sway him. “Well, we always talk on the phone, so why did you not?”

“In person, Oikawa, but we always run out of time,” Iwaizumi says it like he’s asking him because he’s confused. “ _Ah,_ no, more like, you’re running away."

 _On point_. Of course, he was running away, but Iwaizumi doesn’t have to know that! It’s a bullshit excuse.

“What would I run away from, Iwa-chan?" he seethes. The preciseness makes him shiver.

“Other  _things_.”

“Huh?” Now, he’s frustrated than curious. “Other things like  _what_?"

“I assumed you know it.”

“I don’t know it,” he hisses out of sheer annoyance. It’s a whisper but it’s the loudest and he does it like the streets are not silent and passersby are not throwing them odd looks. It’s one thing he hates about Iwaizumi—when he gets into this _episode_ where he’s being vague about  _things_  and refusing to correctly put words together. Unlike Iwaizumi, Oikawa can’t always finish phrases for him. “I don't know  _things_ , Iwa-chan! Why can't you say it?”

“Well, aren’t you extra cranky?” Iwaizumi refutes, mocking, and Oikawa keeps a groan to himself. “Who shit on your oatmeal today?"

“My fucking…” he huffs, nose flaring from the frustration of a delayed, witty response. He guesses Iwaizumi has always been right—he does lose his temper easily than Iwaizumi does. “My fucking toilet bidet! And for your information! I had  _miso_  for breakfast." And as if seizing the short timeframe of being a certified cranky preschooler, he stomps away knowing all this will just be ultimately concluded as one of those childish banters.

Naturally, Iwaizumi catches up to him.

“I'm not sure if you need alcohol to chill out or went too much with the alcohol. Let's go somewhere warm.”

When Iwaizumi holds his wrist and he’s forced to slow down, he harrumphs. “Don’t want to.”

“Honestly you’re being a little shit right now and I hope you know that.”

“Yes, I positively admit to that, so go get me some milkbread.”

“ _What?_ ”

When they completely halt on walking and Iwaizumi lets go of him, Oikawa makes up for the lost warmth by crossing his arms. “You’re being mean. It’s in the rules.”

Iwaizumi smirks. “You and your rules...” _And we’re not even dating anymore_. Iwaizumi doesn’t say it, but Oikawa can already discern the gist of it.

Oikawa side-eyes him, studying, and as he says the following, it’s a little defensive. "And what about it?"

Hands to his pockets, Iwaizumi repetitively scuffs his sole on the dented asphalt. It’s absolutely annoying, a bother to the eyes and ears. And even if Oikawa can’t always finish phrases and decipher  _things_ for Iwaizumi, he knows this habit is akin to a long kept question about to split open.

“Say, I was just wondering, Oikawa… about your  _rules_ , well, you never put it there." He lilts in curiosity but with a hint of a properly held snicker, like it's perfectly normal for two ex-lovers to casually discuss about a romantic history. "I would have guessed you put  _no cheating_.”

“Why would I?" He exclaims with nothing but bafflement. "I know you’d never cheat.”

Iwaizumi hums, nodding his head. “That’s correct.”

“I always trusted you. Well, I _still_ ,” he says, exasperated, and moves on. “Were you doubtful of it?”

“Yeah, but well, I was just thinking you’d doubt me, since it was never—”

“Of course it wasn’t.” Oikawa cuts him off, looks at him now, and tries to keep eye contact even when he feels offended that he almost fails to do so. Maybe that’s the cue for the last straw. “But that didn’t mean I never took it seriously.”

“Oikawa—”

“I know it wasn’t official.  _Whatever_ ,” he scoffs, breaking eye contact to roll his eyes and give a bark of laugh. “That was what all it was: just a silly game to leave high school with some silly souvenir like dating your best friend. But didn’t you ever feel an ounce of sincerity from me? Was it all just like that to you, after all?”

“Oikawa, it wasn’t supposed to come out like that, listen—”

“Then what? You don’t know again?” he raises his voice, but most of the people are distant now so, there are no curious eyes. “ _Nevermind_?”

“I’m not saying it wasn’t real, Oikawa. You never even let me talk!”

“And the only difference was that I was the only one being genuine with that whole thing, which is understandable!”

This makes Iwaizumi pause, and the look he gives Oikawa is just as heartbreaking. “How dare you say that, Tooru?”

“Don’t call me that! I hate it when you call me that.”

“You…”

“You know what?” Oikawa cuts him off, taking a step back perhaps to finally call it a night. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said it… then we wouldn’t have this stupid fucking fight in the first  _fucking_  pl—”

Naturally, Iwaizumi catches up to him and takes his own step forward. Maybe it’s always been a thing for them, because a dynamic as unnoticeable as this has always made the distance between them never short. Just closer.

  _A little bit more._

Then, the kiss just says:  _those seven months we’re nothing, because we’re here again._

Maybe Oikawa does still really love him. Or he loves him more as much as the time they were away. They kiss like it’s the oncoming November chill, when they’re huddled up together and finding comfort in each other’s warmth.

“Why do you always do that?” Oikawa’s voice cracks as he whispers to him when he first pulls away. He’s lightheaded but he’s also annoyed at himself more than he is with Iwaizumi. “When you can’t say anything, you always do that.”

Iwaizumi knows it. Oikawa knows he knows it, but then he still asks him, either way.

“Then what do you want me to do?”

Oikawa hisses, dodging his head when he thinks Iwaizumi attempts to kiss him again. “To tell me what goes in that  _fucking_  head of yours, Hajime.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Let’s end it.”

“Oh. Already?”

Oikawa still vividly remembers that time, because he had been crying behind doors without knowing how he would face him the following day. Two weeks until graduation but he had been the one to break things off for someone who wished for infinity and a million more days.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Iwaizumi still manages to ask though the reason is all clear. Oikawa wants nothing more but to provide him with honesty, that he’s been praying for resilience for the inevitable because he never wants this to stop, but he knows where the line is drawn.

 _Before it gets too hard. Because it's starting to hurt_ , he doesn’t say.

“I don’t want this anymore,” he lies instead.  _Because I’m always counting the hours and feeling like we’re almost out of time._  “Besides, it’s going to happen anyway, right?”

“Oh...” Iwaizumi just utters softly, and the way he looks Oikawa assumes is parallel to how he feels. “Of course. How could I forget?”

“Of course,” Oikawa lets a chuckle, devoid of genuineness and visible of regret. “How could you forget…”

Maybe he shouldn’t have said a single word, over the matters of everything—his feelings, his greed and curiosity, and kept things in to begin with. But then he knows, within their quick perpetuity, that the regret of not being able to tell him will eat him up more than anything. “Of course,” he says it again, because a thousand reasons are running in his head and nothing else comes out from his mouth.

They’re in their childhood neighborhood and suddenly, the warmth of the sunset isn’t as warm as it used to be, the concrete sidewalks more foreign than anything. Suddenly, there’s a rush of heat in his eyelids and the infamous follow-up—one that’s about to discharge without signs, and he grips on the gate handle before everything turns into hellfire.

“I’ll see you around, then,” is what he says, because now starts the moment where he can’t say anything intimate or secretive anymore. He does just that with a practiced casual wave of the hand, nothing else more, like the way they used to be,  _like they’re friends_ —no more, no less, no lingering fingers or robbed kisses or promises of late night stay-ins.

“Bye,” Iwaizumi says it like how it is.  _Goodbye_  like those movie finales Oikawa hates, and he watches him march on without so much as looking back.

He does the same, _because it’s necessary_. From then on, with a foot into the threshold of forgetting and reminiscing, he goes back to square one.

This time though, he thinks it’s gratifying in many little ways, that throughout the short remaining of the school year, Oikawa is able to show how worthwhile is being in love with someone he longs for. By the moment he enters his household, he tries not to front anything.

 

From the dining area, his mom watches him with a creased forehead, bowls and plates all ready for mealtime, but she does not pry further. Oikawa supposes he got his strong senses from her.

“Dinner?”

“It’s fine.” He gives her a reassuring smile, one with exhaustion at the corners of his lips, and goes to give her a peck on the cheek. “I’ll be upstairs.”

“Call me if you need something.”

“Thanks,” he says, voice hoarse like a premonition of some rupture, and the soft smile she gives him just eases it all a bit. By the moment he enters the confines of his room, he does not try to front anything anymore.

An inaudible click of the lock, a hard grip on the knob, head on hard wood, and Oikawa finds the thorough struggle to mute the sobs that come out from his mouth. Although he hates showing his bare feelings to people, he is never used to muffling his cries, because he cries free,  _horrible_   _and_   _dreadful_ , no reserves, and he always cries to Iwaizumi. He remains on the cold floor, back against the equally chilly wall, and defies routines.

Today, he does not slide his bedroom window open.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When they stop by the school yard where Oikawa had asked Iwaizumi out almost two years ago, it hadn't been intentional. He figures it might have been the universe that conspired against or the gods laughing at him from above, but Oikawa thinks it is an ultimate sign for them to finally settle things down.

“You wanna know why I did it before graduation?” He starts and the silence Iwaizumi gives him is what he takes to proceed. “I did it while I thought things weren’t as hard. What’s funny though... things still got worse after it happened, and even ahead of that because I knew we couldn’t stay. I mean what was the difference between breaking up beforehand and on time?” He chuckles and it’s pungent on his tongue, because he knows there’s still some discreet difference he’d be willing to take—like extended nights of late rooftop talks, blackout shenanigans, and after school gimmicks. “To me, it was still hard when I couldn’t get that mental countdown off my head.”

“And you considered the thought whether I did that mental countdown like you did?” Iwaizumi asks him, almost scoffing and Oikawa tries leveling his gaze with an oddly boiling chest.

“How would I even make out, or be assuming of it, when I didn’t even know how you really felt for me, Iwa-chan?”

“You didn’t know?” Iwaizumi’s voice has reached the level of hurt and Oikawa’s fingers itch to hold his. “Were the things I did didn’t mean anything at all? It wasn’t just for the show, Oikawa, but you’re always just all about yourself!”

“Because that’s how you made me feel!” Oikawa snaps back, composure dithering that he then firms his mouth. “Everything we did was too real but there’s always something perched over me, telling me that it shouldn’t be because there wasn’t a proof to begin with. It was my entire fault that I felt insecure either way because it was a silly deal from the start. _I get what I get_ and you gave me everything, which I wholly took to heart, that was it, but for some reason, something lacked and I realized that I just really wanted to hear it from you. _Once_.” _Hear what?_ He thinks Iwaizumi would have asked that but it seems that he knows it all too well with how his face melts into something _knowing_. “Just once, and I would have been sure. And maybe we could have tried working it out or something,” Oikawa efforts an addendum with a weak chuckle. “It was honestly hard dealing with you in Spring break, Iwa-chan, because then we’d have to meet every day I’d have to act like nothing happened, or that I just dreamed a dream I’ve recently woken up from.”

Brief guilt now crosses Iwaizumi’s face, and with a quick change like lighting, he's back to his hardened expression as he inaudibly mumbles, “You know, I don’t even know if you thought of it, but it was unfair to my part because I did feel the same. But you dropped everything on me when I was at the peak of my feelings for you.” Oikawa’s heart jumps several feet above only for it to plummet back into his chest painfully. He gazes up at Iwaizumi, a little of hope but leaning more on regret. “I guess I really missed the chances I got and I know it’s too late, but for the record, Oikawa, I did tell you it.”

“...what?”

“The morning when we broke up,” he clarifies _vaguely_  and Oikawa is baffled. “I told you it.”

“Then why didn’t I hear it?!”

“Because you were sleeping.”

"Fuck," Oikawa grumbles, the weight of his words heavy, and flusters from head to toe. All his hair rises and a shiver shoots up his spine—he wants to cry but he’s thoroughly confused which emotion makes him want to. Ultimately, he barks a wet laugh. “Now we wasted all of it, didn’t we, Iwa-chan?”

“It was partially my fault.”

Oikawa, out of frustration, runs his fingers messy through his hair and Iwaizumi catches his wrist. _Don’t do that,_ he would tell him.

“But we don’t have to,” Iwaizumi remarks like it’s that easy, and Oikawa notes the smile tiptoeing in his mouth. “Well, do you still love me, Oikawa?”

“Do I even have to answer that?” He asks in defense, flustered that he almost completely looks away. “I always wish high school didn’t have to end as much as I listen to that stupid Christmas mixtape.”

“I guess you still do.”

“Did you even love  _me_?”

“All along.”

Oikawa can’t help a chuckle, a bit disoriented, still. “ _Stupid_. You can’t even say it.”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi huffs, annoyed but sounding rather very willing as he rubs on his cold ear. Oikawa figures out the redness is not from the spring chill but from something everyone on earth knows. “Love you. _Still do_.” Iwaizumi’s smile is both boyish and coy and it’s a delightful image that sends Oikawa into a melting stage. “So, will you spend the night with me at home?”

“What promiscuity...”

“You and your dirty mind.” Iwaizumi clicks his tongue but takes the response positively and sticks his hand out for Oikawa to hold.

The spring chill between his fingers fades out as soon as he naturally interlocks them with Iwaizumi’s. He just follows him wherever he’s headed to—maybe to some teenage relationship trope like _their future._

“It’s kinda funny how we were screaming at each other after being away for months and suddenly, we’re back together,” Oikawa says in a voice of guilt and amusement. “It’s like from zero to one-hundred.”

“Mm,” Iwaizumi hums with fondness, akin to something that says _That has always been us_ , and Oikawa silently agrees. “Do you want anything else to bring? Pizza?”

“Nah..” he replies after a long thought of considering eventual midnight starvation and massive appetites, but really, he figures out he doesn’t have to have anything else to bring for the night.

Iwaizumi gives him an unsure look. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Oikawa says with certainty as he levels his gaze with his. “Just you.”

**Author's Note:**

> happy halloweenus, i'm at [sund0wns](https://sund0wns.tumblr.com/) on tumblr!


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